The days catapult before me. The world is spinning too
quickly. It gets harder and harder to retrace my steps. To
figure out how I got to be here.

The years expand into eons. It gets easier for me to imagine
my mother as a girl. To think about her worn-out
heart–breaking for the things she couldn’t hold on to. And
I wonder if I’ve let the wrong people go. When you lose a
person, a whole universe goes along with them.

Sometimes I picture all my other selves, standing in line like
a row of dominoes; separate but part of the same disjointed
whole. How can I hold a single one accountable? No one
ever walks away from love, knowing they can never go back.

Like this poem? Read more in Lang Leav's book Memories, available here.